Love is Never Having to Say Goodbye
by Spike Speigel1
Summary: Sara attempts to recount how she’s arrived at this point in her life. GSR.


Title: Love is Never Having to Say Goodbye

Author: Spike Speigel

Rating: PG-13

Classification: Grissom/Sara

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me. Just taking them for a joyride.

Spoilers: Takes place after 4 x 4.

Summary: Sara attempts to recount how she's arrived to this point in her life.

Status: Finished

* * *

The bed groans beneath us as I hungrily take his mouth with my own before my lips find their way to his shoulder, my teeth gently grazing his taut, hot skin while he continues to push himself inside me. When I think he's established a rhythm, he surprises me. Slow, fast, deep, shallow, he combines them all, and I'm unsure whether he knows that this game of his is driving me to the edge with every passing second.

My legs are wrapped tightly around him as I push him eagerly into my wetness, not wanting him to leave, wishing that he could remain there forever as he pulses with his warmth, a sensation I haven't felt in what seems like a lifetime.

I can hear him, guttural, as he speaks my name like a mantra with each thrust, joining him with my moans. I whisper his name against his ear as though I've found the meaning of life and am resolute to keep this secret just between the two of us for fear it'll lose its significance if others knew about it.

I feel his stomach tense against mine, his entire body going rigid, as his breathing becomes haggard. I whip my head back, both to reposition the damp hair that's currently obstructing my view of the man on top of me, inside me, enveloping me. The other reason is evident to him as I thrust my hips toward him, the deluge of my passion giving way once more under his ministrations. Like I said before, it's been a lifetime since I've felt this way and I'm relishing every sensation, my brain cataloging every nuance of the moment.

It's the mewling of his name that pushes him over the edge as he buries his head into my shoulder and my hair. His body goes limp as I feel him finally release the pent up emotion we've both been hiding for longer than we should have. He shudders once, twice, and then his body is still. However, instead of ending it there like others in my past, he braces himself with his forearms, relieving me of not bearing the full brunt of his weight upon my delicate frame. Instead, he slowly removes his head from the crook of my neck; his head positioned mere inches above mine. Our gazes finally meet, his an amalgamation of awe and insecurity, his eyes questioning me.

_This is what you wanted, right?_

Silly man. Even now, he's still unsure of what I want. So, I tell him with my actions, arching my neck up, my lips gently touching his. I can taste myself on him as my mouth opens to his touch. Our teeth make contact, the sound not unlike fine porcelain resonating. My hands make their way from his hips, fingers delicately tracing the contours of his body, moist with perspiration, until my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. I relish the game of cat and mouse we're currently playing as his tongue darts into my mouth, mine following suit.

My eyes flutter close as I focus on the sensation of the man on top of me, my mind racing. Of course this is what I want. I've wanted this from the first moment I met you. Haven't you figured it out yet, Gil Grissom?

I'm completely in love with you.

* * *

**Six hours earlier**

"Oh, man. Not now."

I'm not talking to anyone in particular unless my car's sentient. Then, in that case, I'm pleading with it to start. I give the ignition another go, but to no avail. The engine doesn't even sputter for me. Instead, I'm left with the sound of a dead click. I hold the key, hoping that maybe the sparkplugs just need a running start.

Nothing.

I would pop the trunk and look under the hood to find the problem, but there are two flaws in this plan. One, it's literally pouring cats and dogs (seriously, a tabby bounced off my windshield no more than three minutes ago) and I'm not in the mood to get more drenched than I initially was running from the building to the car. And two, I know it's not the battery since I just had it replaced less than a month ago, meaning it's something I can't troubleshoot here in the parking lot.

Maybe I should get a jump anyway. The battery could just be defective and…

_Tap, tap_.

I turn toward the driver side window to see Grissom leaning over, holding an umbrella in one hand and some folders under his arm. He motions to me to wind down my window by doing that obligatory manual rolldown even though my car has automatic windows. Nevertheless, I get the gist, rolling the window down just enough that I can see Grissom's face but not enough that I won't drown inside the confines of my vehicle.

"You need a jump?"

I hope he doesn't see me grinning like a schoolgirl right now; thinking of other ways that question could be construed.

"I don't think it's the battery," I reply. "I think it's the engine."

Grissom nods at me, looking to the front and back of my car before speaking once more. "C'mon. I'll give you a ride."

This time I stifle a giggle in tandem to a smile, managing to somehow maintain my composure. "It's okay. I'll just call Triple A."

"Sara, Triple A's just gonna tow you to a shop if it's the engine. You can do that tomorrow, when it's not as wet."

Okay, I'm now convinced that Grissom's doing this on purpose. No one's capable of stringing together three double entendres that quickly. I quickly rethink the situation, realizing that this is Grissom I'm talking about. If he said the sky was red, I'd probably ask him for documentation instead of doubting him. I stir from my thoughts to see Grissom with a puzzled look on his face. Apparently, he's still waiting for an answer.

"It's okay, really. I'll call a cab…"

I don't even get a chance to finish my sentence, Grissom instead opening the car door and motioning for me to come with him. Great, now he's got me doing it.

"Stop being so stubborn so we can both get out of the rain."

"Technically, I'm already out of said rain, what with me being in my car."

Grissom's mouth subtly twists as he raises an eyebrow to me. Yes, I know this is probably annoying him to no end, but I don't care. Grissom looks cute when he's wet. Oh yeah, definitely got me doing it now.

Grissom leans into the car, reaching over me to the point I can feel the heat radiating from his body in the cool weather. I'm momentarily disoriented by the proximity of his body to mine when I finally realize his true motive.

"Hey!"

Grissom quickly pulls himself out of the vehicle, dangling my keys in front of me, a wry grin on his face. "I'm assuming the key to your apartment's on this ring?"

I pout at Grissom, reaching into the passenger seat for my belongings and gathering them into my arms. "You know, some people would call this kidnapping."

"This is theft. Kidnapping would involve me physically removing you from your car." He steps away from the door, allowing me to exit the vehicle that's most likely laughing at me. Probably siding with Grissom at this very moment. Sexist piece of junk.

"Whatever. In any case, I now have no other choice but to take you up on your offer."

"Not true. You could wrestle me for your keys."

I'm staring at Grissom now, my mouth slightly agape as he greets me with a half-smile. I should really take him up on the challenge. After all, he's got the umbrella and file folders. I've just got my gym bag. I could so take him right now if I wanted to. But, that'd be rude seeing as how he's giving me a ride…a lift…he's about to take me home. Stupid Grissom.

"Nah, wouldn't want to mess up that pretty face." Did I just say that? Out loud? To Grissom? Impossible. Because if I did, Grissom would be giving me a perplexed look right about now. And look, there it is. I quickly go into damage control mode. "You know, not girl pretty. I'm talking man pretty." Shut up, Sara. "Because, you know, with the beard and all…" Still not shutting up. Why am I not shutting up again?

"Have you had dinner yet?"

What?

"What?"

"Dinner. Have you not eaten yet? Because I'm assuming it's the lack of sustenance that's making you act like this."

Yeah, that's a good excuse. Go with that.

"Dinner. Yes. I did not have dinner, hence the loopiness." I do the motion with my finger near my temple indicating that I'm plum loco, expecting Grissom to laugh at the gesture. Instead, he just nods. "What?"

"What?"

"You think I'm crazy?"

"Did I say that?"

He's avoiding the question. I can't believe he thinks I'm off my rocker. Ooh! "I think you just answered my question with a question."

"Yes. Yes I did."

"So?"

"So?"

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Did I say that?"

At this point in the routine I'd be pulling my hair out and screaming 'third base' but I'm wet, I'm tired, I'm hungry, and all in that order. I lock the car door from the inside before slamming it shut with more force than usual. Stupid car. Stupid sexist car.

I walk up to Grissom, nodding my head in the direction of his SUV. As we walk to his car, I mutter under my breath, "I am not crazy."

Unfortunately, Grissom hears me, responding to my observation, sarcasm dripping off every word. "That's right, honey. You keep believing that."

"And this is totally kidnapping." Stupid car.

* * *

I'm looking over the menu; somewhat surprised I've never heard of this place before. If it's Chinese and it has take-out, I undoubtedly have the menu under the butterfly magnet on my fridge. But, here we are in foreign confines. Gotta remember to take a menu before we leave. My reputation as Chinese takeout spinster maiden is on the line here.

Grissom's voice pulls me away from the dinner entrée section. He's got an apologetic look on his face. Wonder what that's about. "Hey, Sara? Would it offend you if I order something that doesn't consist solely of what's on my lawn?"

I smirk at him, actually touched that he's asking me such a ridiculous question. "As long as it stays off my plate, you can order anything your heart desires."

Grissom sighs, a hint of relief in his voice. "That's good. Because I don't think vegetable lo mein and vegetable fried rice was going to cut it tonight."

"You miss dinner too?"

He nods slightly before returning to the menu. Seems like he's more tired than he's letting on. And, honestly, I'm surprised it hasn't caught up to him sooner than this. In one fell swoop, Grissom lost Catherine, Warrick, and Nick and all he got in return was Curtis. Doesn't take a mathematician to add those numbers.

I frown at the thought, quickly catching myself. Grissom's a proud man. Last thing he needs is sympathy from me. We all know what the job entails. But, still, I can't help but feel for him.

"Hey, Grissom?"

He doesn't look up from the menu as he answers me. "Hmm?"

"We can skip dinner if you want." Grissom lowers the menu, his attention now on me. He's giving me a once over with his gaze, trying to figure out what I'm getting at. Guess I should get to the point since I'm starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with his eyes roaming my face. Not a bad uncomfortable, mind you. "It's been a long day. We can always take a rain check." I thumb to the plate glass pane separating us from the downpour still in progress. "Would you think less of me if I were to make an awful pun right about now?"

Guess something clicks, because Grissom realizes what I'm trying to do. I still hate the fact that he's gotten so good at reading me. Shouldn't I at least know what he looks like under those clothes for him to know me this well?

"I'm okay, Sara." My brow furrows in disbelief as my eyes narrow upon hearing his words. "Really." I wish I could believe him, but Grissom's made his decision. I'd have a better chance at punching out Ecklie instead of convincing Grissom to call it a night right about now.

"Okay."

And just like that, the conversation's over and we go back to our respective menus. I'm debating over whether to order the tofu with black mushrooms or the eggplant with garlic sauce when Grissom interrupts the uncomfortable silence now hanging over us.

"So, how'd your B and E with Sofia pan out?"

Eggplant. Definitely the eggplant. There's only so much tofu a girl can take before a cheeseburger starts to look appetizing.

"Oh, pretty routine. Turns out the prints we lifted from the doorframe matched the next-door neighbor. Apparently, the break in was all about a barbecue grill." Grissom gives me a 'pull the other one' look, and I can't fault him. People break and enter for jewelry, for electronic equipment, but not for a barbecue grill. "No joke. It turns out that the grill belonged to the neighbor. He filed a report about it being stolen a week previous. Guess he saw it in the victim's backyard and decided to take the law into his own hands."

Grissom smirks at the story, genuinely amused. "Have to remember to try that with Greg next time I see him."

"Greg?"

"Loaned him my Tom Waits CD about a month ago and he still has it. I mean, Greg's a pretty smart kid. How hard is it to just burn a copy?"

Grissom's got my attention. Tom Waits. Really? Time to go fishing. "I didn't know you listened to Tom Waits."

He nods absentmindedly, closing the menu before placing it almost perpendicular to the edge of the table. I take it back. It's Grissom so there's no doubt in my mind it's perpendicular to the edge of the table.

"I know. You think all I listen to is classical music with a splash of jazz since I'm…" He's looking for just the right word to avoid being blunt. I beat him to the punch. And I'm blunt as hell to boot.

"Old?"

He clears his throat, a look of disdain on his face. That is, until he sees the grin on my face and the bad feelings magically disappear. "I was going to say dignified." No he wasn't. 'Dignified' just came to him once I said 'old'. Trust me, he's not the only one that's got the knowing the other person thing down. Wonder if he ever thinks about me naked at times like this.

"Dignified works." I lean forward, my head now resting in the palms of my hands as my elbows settle on the table. "So, what else do you listen to? I mean, other than classical?"

Grissom twists his mouth as his eyebrows rise playfully. "Try me."

Ooh, a challenge. I do love a good challenge. "Radiohead?"

"Pablo Honey was overrated. Amnesiac very much underrated."

I nod, genuinely surprised at Grissom's knowledge. Time to take off the gloves. "Wilco?"

"Everyone hails Yankee Hotel Foxtrot as the be all and end all, but I'm still partial to Summerteeth. Tweedy and Bennett struck just the right balance between music and vocals on that album. The harmonies were just beautiful."

"My Bloody Valentine?"

"One word. Loveless."

"The Arcade Fire?"

Grissom thinks for a moment before speaking. "Sorry. And I thought I was doing so well."

"You were, actually. And might I say, very nice with Loveless."

Grissom grins at me, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Now you're patronizing me."

"I'm not. Honest. I have friends that give me a blank stare whenever I mention My Bloody Valentine. I mean it's only the second best record of the nineties, followed only by…"

"OK Computer."

The smile on my face has now morphed into a huge grin. Smart, handsome, and has excellent taste in music? It's taking all my willpower to not just leap across the table and mount him right about now. So, I do the next best thing. Truth through humor.

"Marry me."

"What?"

The gasp is Grissom fighting for air since his water's gone down the wrong pipe. I almost feel guilty about putting him in his current situation. Almost being the operative word.

"Joke. Seriously though, I can see why Curtis has taken such a liking to you."

"Oh?" Is he serious? I am not going to answer the question because he already knows the answer. How could he not know the answer? He's Grissom. He should know what he does to women by now, right? "Why would you think that?"

Okay, so he's thick when it comes to women. But, other than that, he's a catch. Really.

I sigh as I force the words to the surface; words I've spoken on more than one occasion. At least in my head, at any rate.

"You know why. You're intelligent, caring, handsome, funny, and all those other superlatives. A woman would have to be crazy not to find you a catch. Certain men as well, if you get my drift."

I'm chuckling at my attempt at humor, but I stop as soon as I look up to see Grissom staring at me contemplatively. Like I'm a specimen under his microscope and he's looking for something in particular. Something specific.

"What?"

He remains silent for a moment, his arm now draped across the top of the booth seat as he continues to look at me in a manner I'm finding very uncomfortable right about now. Before I can repeat the question, Grissom speaks, the words taking me aback.

"You don't like her very much, do you? Sofia."

I look away from him as I speak. I can't lie to him while I'm looking into his eyes. "I don't not like her. It's just…she takes some getting used to is all. You know, it took a while before I got in sync with Warrick, Nick and Catherine. I just need time to…"

"There's nothing going on between us."

I turn back to Grissom to see a somber look on his face. I'm expecting him to crack a smile at any moment and yell, 'Gotcha!' But he doesn't. Instead, he continues to look at me, waiting for me to say something. So, I do. Albeit, not as eloquent as it sounded in my head.

"Um, that's…I wasn't…what?" See? So far from eloquent I'd need a plane, a boat, and maybe an elephant to get to eloquent from where I am right now.

"I'm not seeing Sofia."

"Why are you telling me this?"

My heart's in my throat, hopeful and fearful all at the same time. It feels like an eternity until he speaks. "You know why."

"Do I?"

And then he sighs. Not a relieved kind of sigh. More of a frustrated sigh maybe? Confused? I'm not sure. But, the fact that he's no longer looking at me gives me all the indication in the world. This conversation's just gone from lighthearted to serious. It's like a car, except without the anti-lock brakes.

"I see the way you look at us when we're together. I know that look just as well as I know when you're angry you forgot your keys in your gym bag and have to go back to the locker room to get them, when you're relieved when you see you're not on a case with Sofia, and when you're playful when you flirt blatantly with Greg right in front of me."

He looks up and I see nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "You see all that, huh? Even the Greg thing?"

"At first, I thought you were genuinely interested in him." I can hear the regret in his voice even though he quickly retreats and regains some semblance of composure. "Not like that's a bad thing. You deserve to have someone that appreciates you."

"You appreciate me." I'm mentally slapping myself upside the head for even saying that. Why did I say that? Oh, God. What did I just do? What did I just do?

"Sara, we've been over this. This thing…you and me…" He's struggling for words now. How the hell did we get here? It was just a friendly dinner. "It'd never work."

I'm no longer thinking at this point, my emotions getting the better of me. Some might think it a weakness. And, right about now, I'd be hard pressed to argue the point. "Why? I know it's not work. Because you've spent time with Curtis outside work hours." He's absolutely shocked at this revelation, as though it was a well-kept secret. "I could tell. You used to act the same way around me back in San Francisco."

"Sara…"

"Look. It's not my business whether or not you and Curtis are a…" I have to literally will myself to say the next word, the thought already beginning to rend my heart. "…couple."

"I told you. We're not."

I don't look at him for this next part. I don't think I'd be able to continue on if I had to look at him. "I know. I'm just curious. Why can you talk to her but not me? We used to talk all the time, but now, I can't remember the last time we talked outside of work."

His voice is a whisper as he recollects the last time. "When you were suspended."

"What?"

"Last time we talked. When Ecklie suspended you."

He's right. I'd almost forgotten, that instant feeling like a lifetime ago. "You're right. You're also avoiding the question."

I expect Grissom to now engage me in circular logic until we're both too tired to continue on and drop the whole conversation. But for some reason, this time he doesn't.

"Do you remember the first guy you fell in love with? I don't mean a crush. I mean Wuthering Heights love here."

I nod. How could anyone not remember that? "Scott Yorke. Freshman year of college."

"And do you remember what it was about him that drew you to him?"

"I dunno. Lot of things, I guess. He was cute, pretty smart, athletic. He played second string quarterback for the football team. You'd be surprised what a Letter-man jacket can do to a girl fresh out of high school."

"But, what specifically attracted you to him?"

I'm not sure where Grissom's going with this, but I decide to play along for a bit longer. "Well, to tell the truth, I guess it was the whole jock/big man on campus aura that drew me to him. I know, look at Sara, all weak in the knees for the stereotypical hunk."

I expect Grissom to at least crack a smile at the joke, but no such luck. Instead, he remains stoic as he continues his line of questioning. "So, what happened? Why didn't you two stay together?"

"It just didn't work out in the end."

"Why do you think? Because, according to you, you really liked this guy."

I really don't want to talk about this anymore. I just want to order, eat my meal, and go home. But, since those aren't options at the moment, I reluctantly answer. "If you really have to know, it was because he wasn't the guy I thought he was when I first met him."

I'm expecting another rapid-fire question in my direction. Instead, Grissom remains silent for a moment. I'm about to say something to break this discomfited silence between us. Unfortunately, I never get the chance. Instead, Grissom looks directly at me and says, "In other words, he couldn't compete with the idealized version of him you concocted that initially attracted you to him."

"Yeah, I guess that's one way to look…"

And, just like that, everything falls into place. I quickly look up, already knowing what I'm going to see on Grissom's face. And, sure enough, there's the mournful frown on his face as he continues to look at the menu in front of him. To be honest, I think anywhere other than in my general direction would suit Grissom right about now. Because, in a matter of minutes, his worst fears have been fully realized.

And I've been too damn stupid to ever realize the real reason Grissom never pursued a relationship with me. It wasn't because of the reasons I thought for all these years. It was because he knew.

I open my mouth, wanting to say something. Anything. But, I don't know what to say. He's caught me off-balance. I want to tell him that he's wrong. But what if he isn't? What if he's right? What if I've idealized a relationship with him to such a point that disappointment is the only outcome now?

"Excuse me, but are you ready to order?"

We both turn to the waiter, somewhat grateful for the interruption. I speak first while handing the waiter my menu. "Eggplant with garlic sauce and a Heineken?"

"Very good. And you, sir?"

"Moo goo gai pan and a Heineken."

"Should be a few minutes."

The waiter retrieves Grissom's menu before retreating to the kitchen. I turn back to him to see he's now looking down at the table sans menu, his hands clasped on the surface. I open my mouth once more, hoping that the words will come. Unfortunately, they never do. So, I do the only thing I can at the moment.

I look down at the table and fiddle with my chopsticks. Stupid car.

* * *

The drive home is a quiet one. That is, other than the car stereo that fills the vehicle with an acoustic guitar with piano accompaniment. CD most likely. I'd say it's the perfect selection for right now, given the awkwardness between Grissom and myself. Something mellow. Something calming to take the edge off. But, I'd by lying.

Instead, I just wish Grissom would just talk to me. Say something. Anything at all. Even tell me that he's in love with Sofia. Just…anything.

But he doesn't. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the road, occasionally thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel when a particularly rhythmic beat comes through the speakers. Other than that, he makes no action to even hint at communication with me. If it weren't for the fact I'm visible from the passenger window, you'd never know that I was even in the car with Grissom.

I steal only occasional glances at him, and then only for a second. I can't tell if he's upset at me, disappointed, or a combination of both. Unfortunately, he gives up nothing, his demeanor the definition of stoic. I'm not sure when I give up trying to talk to him. Must have been a while since the rain's stopped. In any case, it's not long after that before we pull up to my complex.

Grissom places the vehicle into park before hesitantly turning in my direction. I try to avoid his eyes as I turn to him, looking at anything in his general vicinity, but I'm drawn to him, helpless. Luckily, I don't have to worry about another uncomfortable moment of silence, what with Grissom finally saying his first words since the restaurant.

"So, do you need a ride to the mechanic's tomorrow?"

I shake my head slowly, my voice trembling in my throat. "It's okay. I'll get a ride with the tow truck."

"Because it's not a problem."

"It's okay. I'm good," followed by the now familiar awkward silence. We both turn away from the other, Grissom looking ahead while I look down into my lap as my hands fiddle with one another in a misguided tug of war. I take a deep breath before mustering up the courage to say what I've been mulling over ever since the restaurant.

"You weren't entirely wrong. About the idealized versus the actual." I can feel Grissom's gaze on me, but I don't dare look up from my lap. "With Scott, I thought he could have been more than 'just a jock' if he put some effort into it. But, that's what I wanted. He was fine being 'just a jock'. And then there's Hank. I thought I found something real with him. That he could have been the one. He was so kind and sweet and caring. He brought out emotions in me I thought were long dormant. But, of course it all turned out to be a lie. Because to him, I was never a girlfriend. I was nothing more than the other woman. A distraction.

I finally manage to look at Grissom, my voice becoming more sure as I continue. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we can never be more than this. But, hey. This isn't that bad, is it?

Grissom's response comes in a subtle motion of his head. I think he's still trying to take in everything I'm saying. It's not like we're honest like this about our emotions every day of the week. I reach over and gently squeeze Grissom's hand before I finally speak.

"Anyway, thanks for the lift. And for dinner. I'll…I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

And, before you can say broken dream, I'm walking toward my apartment slowly, what with the tears in my eyes blurring my vision. I'd hate to end the day with a broken coccyx. Then again, maybe that would be the best way to end this day. Everything else has ended badly thus far for me.

But, that's when I hear it. Not the sound of an engine turning over. Instead, I hear a door slam shut followed by footsteps. I don't turn around. Not even when he calls out.

"Sara, wait."

"What?"

"I don't know. Just…wait."

I manage to wipe away most of the tears before I turn around. But, from the look on his face, I know I haven't gotten them all. "It's been a long day and I just want to…"

"This can't be the way this ends. I won't accept that. I can't."

I can hear the desperation in his voice. But, I don't know what to do here. It's all too much.

"What do you me to say? What can I say to make this better? Tell me what to say. Because, I don't know what to say to make this better."

Before I realize it, Grissom closes the distance between us until his face is mere inches away from mine. "I don't know."

I can hear the disappointment in my voice as I speak. "I've gotta go." I start to turn away, but Grissom's hand on my forearm says otherwise as he turns me back toward him. "Gil, please let me go." A slip of the first name. A sure sign that emotions are running unchecked. I look up into his eyes, my vision blurred once more by the onset of tears. "Please. If you care anything about me, let me go."

His voice is a whisper, the desperation still evident. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

It's at this point the frustration of the whole situation's finally gotten to me. I wrestle my arm away from Grissom's grip, my voice near the verge of shouting. "What do you want from me? I told you that you were right about me. About us. You were right about everything. What more do you want?"

"That's just it. I'm not right. Not entirely." He sighs softly, his head dropping ever so slightly that I can see every feature of his face except for his eyes. "I've always held to the belief that if this ever happened, this thing between us, that I'd never live up to your expectations. But, I never even contemplated the other option. I never thought about the possibility that this might be the best thing to ever happen to me."

My heart's racing a mile a minute, both from the fear now coursing through my very being and this newfound sincerity from Grissom, moving me more than I ever expected. My voice is a whisper that only we can hear.

"Why?"

"Because…"

My hand instinctively finds his, my grip tender yet insistent. "Why?"

His voice is hushed, timid, as he finally answers my question. "Because I can't risk losing you." He's squeezing my hand, trying to find the words. My free hand gently grazes his chin as I tilt his gaze to my own.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

"For now. But, what about a month from now? A year? Can you honestly say you'll still be here? There's no guarantee that this will work."

"Yeah. But, like you said, there's a chance that it will." My hand finds the side of his face as my palm tenderly cups his cheek. "But, if we don't take the chance, we'll never know. And, I don't know about you, but I'd rather take a chance and risk this not working instead of always wondering 'what if' for the rest of my life."

Grissom tilts his head toward my palm, his eyes closed as he speaks. "Aren't you scared about the possibility that this might not work?"

My answer is almost immediate. "Terrified."

His eyes open once more, his gaze meeting mine. "But, you're willing to risk it all. Why?"

I've known the answer to his question ever since the first moment I saw him.

"Because you're worth the risk."

And, for the first time since the parking lot, Grissom smiles at me. Not a smile of amusement, but one of sincerity. One of tenderness.

"I don't want to go."

I return his smile as I move my hand from his face and press it against his chest, near his heart.

"Then stay."

And he does.

_Fin_


End file.
